Never Again
by NYPDBosco
Summary: Reposted with some extra stuff!!!!!! Why is Bosco afraid of the dark?


Never Again  
****  
This story is in response to a challenge from the Third Watch Fan Fiction group on Yahoo. The challenge was to come up with a story that would explain Bosco's fear of the dark, and include a little of his childhood. Hope you like it.  
  
Oh, yeah, I own nothing of importance. Just the idea.  
  
OH, and there IS bad language in my story! Sorry for those of you that are sensitive to those things.  
****  
  
"Dammit, I hate domestic disturbance calls!"  
  
"Yeah, me too. Hits too close to home sometimes," agreed my partner, Faith.  
  
If only she knew. Well, she kinda knows, but none of the details. Just that my dad used to beat my mom. I can't remember if I told her anything else. I don't think I ever told her he hit me too, but maybe I did. Ah, either way it don't matter. I still hate these calls.  
  
It's 9:15 on a Friday night, and it's pitch black in this building. We turn on our flashlights, and draw our guns as we slowly advance through the building.  
  
"Faith?" I whisper. "You hear that?"  
  
She stops, and I know she heard it this time. hell I think all of New York heard it. The yells of an enraged man, and the pleas of a scared woman. We had to get there fast, and before he caused serious damage. As we race up the stairs I hear the woman scream again, and for a second I think of Ma.  
  
I look at Faith as we stand outside the apartment door. The screaming and yelling is so loud. God I hate this. It takes all I have not to think back to my childhood when we are on these calls. I can't have a lapse in concentration. If I do it could get me killed...or worse yet Faith. And I can't let another woman in my life get hurt like I let my mom. Never again. That's my mantra. That's what I repeat to myself over and over again. It keeps me focused.  
  
Faith bangs on the door. "POLICE. OPEN UP!"  
  
Never again...never again...never again.  
  
She bangs on the door again. "POLICE! OPEN THE DOOR!"  
  
Never again...never again...never again.  
  
The argument is getting louder. We can hear breaking glass and the woman is still screaming. I can hear her crying. We have to help her. I look at my partner. "Ready?"  
  
She nods, and I kick the door open. We quickly but cautiously advance into the apartment. The place looks like it's been ransacked. Furniture is overturned, and the room is a mess. I see the woman cowering in the corner with the man hovering over her. He's still yelling at her. Telling her how stupid she is, and that she's a disgrace. I wish I could just shoot him! How dumb can he be? He's got two cops with guns trained on him and he's still going.  
  
Faith starts talking to him. Trying to get him to back off. I keep looking from him to the woman sitting on the floor. I can see the blood and bruises on her face. I can see her fear.   
  
I don't know what exactly Faith said to him, but whatever it was it worked. He keeps saying he's sorry as I slap the handcuffs on him. I'm so tired of this shit. "Shut the hell up! I'll let you know if I want you to talk!"  
  
Faith's in the corner trying to comfort the woman. She's still pretty freaked out, and she's going to have to go to the hospital. Kim and Alex enter the apartment. "She's over there." I nod in the general direction.  
  
As the medics check the woman out Faith joins me by the apartment door where I still have a firm grip on the asshole who beat his wife. We both look around the apartment a little more. For the first time I notice the two small bicycles leaning against the wall in the corner.  
----------  
"Happy Birthday Maurice! Hope you like it."  
  
"Ma, it's the best!" I was so excited as she wheeled in my present. It was a bike. It wasn't new or anything, but it was mine, and I hadn't had a bike in a long time. Michael and I used to share one, but it had gotten to be too small for me so I didn't ride it anymore.  
  
"Thanks Ma! Can I go ride it?"  
  
"Sure honey. Take Mickey with you."  
  
"OK," I headed out the door with my little brother in tow, but then stopped. "Hey, where's dad?"  
  
"He'll be home in time for cake. Don't you worry about that."  
  
"Come on Mo! Let's go."  
-----------  
Shit. I turn to the wife-beater. "You got kids?"  
  
"Two boys."  
  
"Where are they?! Are they here?!"  
  
"I think so."  
  
"You sick son-of-a-bitch!" I shove him toward Faith, and make my way into what looks like a kid's bedroom. I turn on the light, and can hear soft crying. I can't tell where it's coming from exactly, but I remember where Michael and I used to hide. I slowly open the closet door, and there they are; huddled in the corner.  
------------  
Dad didn't make it home in time for birthday cake. I acted like it didn't bother me, but it did. I couldn't let mom know though because she worked really hard to make my birthday special.  
  
I was in bed when I heard dad come home. As soon as he was through the door he started yelling at mom. He didn't waste any time. I could hear what he was yelling. The walls were paper thin.  
  
"Where'd that bike come from?!" He screamed.  
  
"I got it for Maurice. It's his birthday which you obviously forgot."  
  
Ma always put up a good fight for as long as she could.  
  
"We can't afford a bike! How'd you get it?!"  
  
"I picked up some extra hours at work. Used my tip money."  
  
"He doesn't deserve it!" That's when he started hitting her. I could *hear* the beating she was taking, and it was all because of me.  
  
I needed to do something. I needed to help her. I slowly crept out of bed, and went into the living room. I watched in horror as my dad continued to hit my mom. "Ma?"  
  
She looked at me, and I could see the terror in her eyes. "Maurice go back to bed."  
  
"But ma..."  
  
"Maurice go back to bed."  
  
I looked at my dad, and the look on his face scared me. I quickly turned and ran from the room. But instead of going to my room I went to Michael's. I didn't know how to help mom, but I figured I could help him somehow. I was his big brother; it was my job to protect him.  
  
When I got to his room I went inside and shut the door. The light was on in his closet, so I knew he was already there. "Mikey. It's me," I whispered as I opened the closet door. I closed it behind me, shut off the light and sat down next to my little brother.  
-------------  
Faith and I spent the rest of the shift finishing the report. She kept trying to talk to me, but I didn't want to talk. I wasn't in the mood. I keep seeing those two little boys huddled together in that closet. I thought I had done a good job of burying those memories...those feelings from my childhood. Guess I didn't bury them deep enough.  
  
"Finally. We're done," Faith said as she closed the file folder, and stood up.  
  
"Yeah. It's been a long night." I'm exhausted. Not so much physically, but mentally.  
  
"Bos are you all right? You've been really quiet the last couple hours."  
  
"I'm fine. Just a little tired."  
  
"You sure? It seems like this really bothered you tonight."  
  
"Yeah. I'm fine."  
  
"So you're just tired?"  
  
Why does she always do this? Why can't she just let me be? She still doesn't understand that talking about it isn't my idea of a solution. I'd rather just push down all the thoughts and emotions. Sometimes it's just a little harder to do, and it takes time.  
  
"Faith I'm fine!"  
  
"OK. OK."  
  
We say our good-byes, and head home. Tomorrow is our first of three days off, and I'm really looking forward to it. I think I'm going to spend most the day sleeping, and erasing what I saw today from my mind.  
  
I crawled out of bed around noon. I slept pretty well last night despite the nightmares. They're pretty much a common occurrence, but after calls like last night's the nightmares are usually a lot more intense. So I slept with the light on, and that helped because when I'd wake up I could see where I was. I can't stand the dark.  
  
The phone rang. "Yeah?"  
  
"Nice Bosco. Whatever happened to hello?"  
  
"I knew it was you Faith."  
  
"Oh really?"  
  
"Yeah. Who else calls me? So, what's up?"  
  
"Well the kids are both staying with friends tonight, and Fred is going to poker night with some of the guys. I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner?"  
  
"You sure you wanna spend your time off with me?"  
  
"Yeah. Why not? But if you have plans don't go changing them."  
  
"Nope. No plans. What time should I come over?"  
  
"How's five sound?"  
  
"Works for me. See you then."  
  
It was a little before five when I got to Faith's. I didn't bother to knock. I just let myself in.  
  
"Hey."  
  
"Hey Bosco."  
  
"I'm a little early. Hope that's OK."  
  
"No problem. Dinner is almost ready."  
  
"Need help?"  
  
"No. I got it."  
  
I start wondering around the small living room. Looking at the pictures of my partner's family. Emily, Charlie, Fred and Faith. They all look so happy in these pictures. I take my wallet out of my back pocket. I pull out the picture of my family that I carry with me. It's the only picture I have of the four of us. Me, Michael, Ma and Dad.  
  
My dad is the only one not smiling in the picture. I was eight and it was Michael's sixth birthday. We were having a picnic in Central Park. Michael and I were all smiles, and ma put on a good smile for the camera. Dad just looked like he didn't want to be there. At the time I thought all was right with the world. Boy was I wrong.  
  
I hold the picture up next to one of the Yokas family. I can see the difference between our families. It's evident in the picture that Faith and Fred are in love. My family picture shows more fear than love between my mom and dad.  
  
I don't look at this picture very often. I carry it around to remind me that when I'm married and have kids that I don't want to be like my dad. I don't need a picture to remind me of how awful my dad was, but to see it there in color...to look at our faces. I don't know. I guess I can't really explain why I keep the picture in my wallet.  
  
I'm still staring at the pictures. "Faith, does Fred treat you good?" I can hear the distance in my voice. It's like I'm a thousand miles away. I'm still deep in thought. Thinking about my past.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Does Fred treat you OK?"  
  
She walks up beside me, and picks up the picture of her family that I'm looking at. "Bosco does this have something to do with the domestic call last night?"  
  
I look at her. "You'd tell me if he didn't, right? If he hurt you or the kids. You'd let me help." I feel like I'm pleading with her, but I need her to understand that she could come to me if she needed help. I would help her.  
  
"He's not a saint Bos, but he treats us right. It's tough sometimes, but we love each other."  
  
I look down at the picture of my family that I still hold in my hand. "Sometimes love isn't enough," I say under my breath. I look at her again. "But you'd tell me?"  
  
"Bos, you'd be the first person I'd turn to."  
  
"OK." I snap out of the trance I'm in. "So, dinner ready?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
We ate dinner, and just sat around talking for a couple hours. It was nice hanging out with Faith away from work. The two of us could talk about everything, and say anything to each other.   
  
She didn't question me at all about what has been going through my head since the domestic violence call. I was glad she didn't ask. That's one of the things I like about Faith. For the most part she'll just drop it.  
  
She'll usually stop asking me about stuff when she knows I don't want to talk. Especially when it's about my past. Faith knows how touchy I can be about it. The first time I ever told her that my dad abused my mom was the night she found me sitting outside my mom's boyfriend's place.  
  
He'd beat ma up, and Faith and I found out. Faith kept asking me questions about it. She wouldn't let it rest. Finally I got so annoyed with her that I told her just so she'd shut up. She wasn't expecting it. So now that she knows a little about my childhood she doesn't push the issue *too* much.  
  
Saturday Night Live was on, and Faith and I sat down to watch it. Not long after it started the power in the apartment went off.  
  
"Shit." I really hate the dark.  
  
"Hmm. Must be storming pretty bad outside for the power to go out." She doesn't seem to be bothered at all by the pitch black that is blanketing us.  
  
I however am starting to panic because I can't see my hand in front of my face. "F-Faith. You got a flashlight or something?" I couldn't hide the fear in my voice.  
  
"Oh yeah. I've got candles. Just a sec."  
  
I could hear her rummaging around in the kitchen. I wish she'd hurry up. Faith dropped something on the floor, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Would you hurry up?!"  
  
"Sorry. I can't find the...oh here they are." She struck a match, and lit a candle. Seeing the flicker of the small flame began to ease my fear, but it was still really dark. She lit another candle, and slowly carried them into the living room.  
  
Relief washed over me as Faith handed me one of the candles. I swallowed hard, and tried to push down the fear and memories that were threatening to surface.  
  
"Bosco I'm sorry. I guess I forgot how much you don't like the dark."  
  
"It's not your fault."  
  
"You going to be OK? I could light some more candles."  
  
I shook my head. "No, this is fine." I sat staring at the flame of the candle that I had place on the coffee table in front of me.  
  
"Bos?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Can I ask you something?"  
  
"I guess."  
  
She hesitated. "What made you so afraid of the dark?"  
  
I sigh.  
  
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want."  
  
"It's OK." I shifted in the chair, but continue to look at the candle. "I guess I'm not so much afraid of the dark. It's the things I can't see in the dark that I'm afraid of." I pause. Not sure if I want to say anymore. Oh, what the hell.  
  
"It was my tenth birthday. Michael wasn't quite eight yet. Ma had worked extra hours to get me a bike. Dad came home late, and got all pissed off about the bike. I was in bed and I could hear them arguing. I could *hear* him hitting her! I went to help her, but she just told me to go back to bed. It wasn't the first time he'd hit her." I run my hand through my hair. "I didn't want Michael to be alone, so I went into his room. We always used to hide in the closet where it was dark. I guess we figured dad wouldn't be able to find us there." I chuckle. "Yeah, like he didn't know we were in the closet. That night it went on for a long time. Michael was crying so hard. I tried to keep him quiet. When the fighting stopped I stayed with him until he fell asleep. Then I tiptoed toward my room." I take a shaky breath. The memories are coming back to me, and they're so vivid. So intense. It's like it's happening right now.  
  
"It was so dark in the hall. I was trying to be quiet. I was three steps from my door when he grabbed me by the neck," I reach out my hand like I'm grabbing someone. "I didn't even know he was there! He was waiting for me, but I couldn't see him. It was too dark. He didn't yell at me cause he didn't want anyone to hear, but I could hear the anger in his voice. He said it was time for my birthday spanking. Then he beat the crap out of me."  
  
I looked at Faith for the first time. I could see she was crying. I shrug my shoulders. "So, for my tenth birthday my dad gave me a black eye, a broken arm, nightmares to last a lifetime and a fear of the dark."  
  
Faith wiped her eyes. "Bos I had no idea."  
  
"How could you? I never said anything."  
  
"I'm sorry. I never should have asked."  
  
"No big deal."  
  
The power came back on just as the musical guest on SNL was finishing.  
  
"Man we missed it. I love Nickleback," said Faith.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah. I have their CD."  
  
"Lets listen to it."  
  
"OK." Faith turned the TV off, and put the CD in the stereo.  
  
"Faith have you listened to the lyrics of their songs?"  
  
"Well not all of them. I usually just listen to 'How You Remind Me' and 'Too Bad'. Those are my favorites. Why?"  
  
I knew 'Never Again' was the first track, and after sharing my story with Faith I need to hear it. She hit play, and the music started.  
  
"Listen to the words."  
  
He's drunk again   
It's time to fight   
She must have done something wrong tonight   
The living room   
Becomes a boxing ring   
It's time to run when you see him clenching his hands   
She's just a woman  
I hear her scream   
From down the hall   
Amazing she can even talk at all  
She cries to me   
Go back to bed   
I'm terrified that she'll wind up dead in his hands   
She's just a woman  
Never again   
I've seen it before but not like this  
Been there before but not like this   
Never before have I seen it this bad   
She's just a woman  
Just tell the nurse   
You slipped and fell   
It starts to sting as it starts to swell   
She looks at you   
She wants the truth   
It's right out there in the waiting room with those hands   
She's just a woman  
Never again   
I've seen it before but not like this  
Been there before but not like this   
Never before have I seen it this bad   
She's just a woman  
Father's a name you haven't earned yet  
You're just a child with a temper   
Haven't you heard don't hit a lady   
Kickin' your ass would be a pleasure  
He's drunk again   
It's time to fight   
Same old shit just on a different night  
She grabs the gun   
She's had enough   
Tonight she'll find out how fuckin tough is this man   
She's just a woman  
Never again   
I've seen it before but not like this  
Been there before but not like this   
Never before have I seen it this bad   
She's just a woman  
  
"That's practically what you told me, well, except for the part with the gun."  
  
I lean back, and clasp my hands behind my head. "Yup. Music like this...it's how I deal with stuff. I don't usually talk. Instead I go home, and crank up the stereo. Nowadays there's a song for everything."  
  
I see her nod her head in understanding. "So I shouldn't worry about you when you don't talk about what's going on?"  
  
"Right."  
  
Sometimes it pays to talk to Faith. To open up every once in awhile. Usually I reserve it for those times when I feel like I'm going to explode. I don't usually just share. Tonight she must have caught me at a moment of weakness. I didn't have my guard up. I can't believe I shared that story with her. Talking to her tonight felt pretty good though. Maybe I'll be able to sleep without the light on.  
  
I doubt it.  
  
  
******  
The song was "Never Again" from Nickleback's "Silver Side Up" album. Good CD! 


End file.
